Nostalgia And Dirt [Exclusive]

It is very interesting to reflect upon one's childhood. The old saying of how much your parents' intelligence grows with your own age is true. But more important is the foundation given so that when you get older you are less likely to fall. And in my case they left a pillow to fall on as well. A friend and I was reflecting upon days gone past today which brought memories of childhood vacations. We passed discussion about the yesteryears of Chattanooga and the infamous Copper Hill and Ducktown, old strip mining areas just east of Chattanooga. We talked about how barren the hills once looked and how it was a milestone for our annual trip to Cherokee, North Carolina. Then discussion turned to those earlier childhood memories and our stay at the 441 Motel in Maggie Valley. I suspect I was about 6 but the memories still linger of all the vacation magic and our first trip to Ghosttown in the Sky. I can still remember the way Cherokee once looked before the rot of gambling took over the vacation dreamland. One of my other comforts is my recollecgtion of Rock City in Chattanooga. The memory of Mother Goose Village is as magical today as it was then. Of course I go by there even today when I get the chance. And the hairs still stand up on my neck when looking over the edge. Each time I go I think how crazy I am to run around on this hillside, but after I leave I just can't wait to return to see the way things there stay constant in this world of change.

Next trip down memory lane I will discuss my trips to Northwest Florida. Whenever we went on vacation we went either to the panhandle of Florida or to the Smokey Mountains. By many standards that may not have been far, but I would bet a sure nickel my memories are as good as anybody's and just the therapy needed for a hard day.

Tomorrow is the big day. The doctor gets to turn me inside out with his fancy instruments. My supply of nourishment, including water, gets cut at midnight. But the wife put together a chicken concocation for supper that would make the best French chefs jealous. If you ever get a good look at me you could tell that my wife can put together a good meal. It would seem that my hunger clock has been set to run past noon tomorrow and so I should be in good shape cause at noon I will still be three sheets to the wind and won't care about food.

OK, on to the bad news. I see Florida is still sprouting perverts. As a friend of mine says at work, with the rampant onslaught of all the "loose living" of adults out there I can't see why any normal human being would force themselves on anyone including women or children. But the key word here is "normal." I know many of you would not agree with me, but if we had the punishment channel on television that broadcast all punishments and executions we might make some of these sickos think twice. And those who needed a morbid fix would be sure to watch the channel so they could see some other pervert get what he deserves. I also don't see much difference between a sexual predator and a murderer. Either way they are taking the life of the victim. Maybe if the Washington yahoos spent a little less effort on trying to guard our cheap oil supply in Iraq and a little more time on the home front we might give law enforcement a boost in cleaning things up. I'll get off my soapbox now. But now that I mentioned it the once bare ugly strip mined hills of Ducktown kind of remind me of how dirty these perverts are. The good news is that the fine folks of Tennessee have refurbished Copper Hill and Ducktown so that it no longer bares its scars. Maybe with a little more effort on rounding up these perverts we can heal some of our country's scars as well.

If I don't post tomorrow you can take comfort in the fact that I am probably still relishing the sampling of my hospital's finest mix. Or maybe that is when I should write.